It was an hour after he saved her. She was shivering, hopefully more from cold than fear, watching him and he made subtle attempts to make her more comfortable. She was already underneath both bed blankets and his coat, and she still felt cold. She felt more empty than cold.

Apparently he had healed her when he ripped her out, all the scars Crowley had dug into her were gone. Her shoulder also burned like shit, but it was the only part pof her that wasn't freezing. "Cass…"

"Yes?"

"I'm still cold…"

He went to her, sitting down behind her, putting his legs out and wrapping his arms around her, resting his chin on her head.

She was instantly warm. And she also noticed how nice his vessel felt, even behing the coverings.

"Why did you come for me?"

"Why not? You stayed for me."

She blinked. She did, didn't she? "But why?"

"Because everyone deserves to be saved."

She broken from his hold so she could spin to look at him. "You're different."

"I've been healed."

He was looking at her with those damn, bright blue puppy eyes. She couldn't understand. Yeah, when he was broken, he had an attachment to her. Because she stayed behind and watched over him as he suffered from the moose's psychic pain. And when he woke, he followed her around like a lost pet, an innocence and a somewhat cherubic quality took over the warrior that God had forged so long ago.

But that was restored to him. Everything. His abilities, his strength, even his smiting. She figured from what the Winchesters thought of her, that the first moment he broken Purgatory was to go with he didn't.

He went for me.

"Not that I'm not flattered Clarence, but why come after little old me?"

He was uncomfortable answering that, which amused her.

"I…um…"

"I mean Deano's obviously missing you."

He didn't answer, just stared at her with those pathetic eyes.

"Because I missed you."

Now that was something she wasn't expecting. And she wasn't expecting him to make a move, his…hisvessel's handsome hands pushed a lock of her dark brown hair from his face, before he went in for the kill.

Being kissed by an angel was a peculiar feeling. It cleaned you from the inside out, Making you feel instant freshness in the body, even if it wasn't yours. It healed you, leaving a sort of rebirth feeling inside. And as much as Meg didn't want to admit it, it felt pretty damn good.

He was on her now, pushing her back on the bed as he passionately pressed his lips against hers. his skin was incredibly soft. Maybe she'd even describe it as angel soft. And he was gentle, careful not to crush her even though his body was fully pressed against hers.

She was already naked, why the hell not take it all the way? She pushed him up, sliding off his white med patient shit and using her legs to slide off his matching sweatpants. He reacted at first in shock, but it passed as he rolled onto his back, giving her the surface.

He clawed at her, and she bit him. Hard. Blood filled his mouth, but he dismissed it as they continued on, until they both finally broke for air (not that they needed to breathe, but for the vessels). Once they caught their breaths, Meg rolled over onto his chest, pressing herself against him.

"I am so getting my ass smited."

"Not if I can help it," he replied, running his hand through her hair.

"Clarence, we just did probably the most demonic and sinful thing anyone could ever do."

"I don't care."

She huffed. "Well, if the angels don't smite you, Dean probably will."

Castiel kissed her head. "Dean wont do anything. I wont let him hurt you."

She sat up. "What are you-"

"I promise."

She blinked. For as long as she can remember, no one ever risked his own ass for her. She found it sort of sexy. "Alright. But You're gonna have to tell him."

Castiel did that stupid angel head tilt. "Tell him what?"

"Nothing," she sighed, grabbing her angel closer. "Absolutely nothing."